Wild Woman From Borneo
by avrovulcan
Summary: Napoleon and Illya are caught and taken to a satrapy, they are shocked at what they find there. Part of my Illya and Rebecca series.
1. Chapter 1

Napoleon and Illya were shoved at gunpoint into the palatial room and forced to their knees before Otto Vanderfeld himself, he was head of a small satrapy located near the Georgia border. Dressed in regal refinery, he looked the ruler the THRUSH agent believed himself to be.

The rotund man was sat in what could only be described as a throne, resplendent in gold leaf and red velvet, which stood upon a marble dais. Two scantily clad women stood near by, one on either side of him; their thin pale blue and gold sari's stirring in a light breeze.

A burly guard was positioned behind the trio, while two more, the ones who'd brought Solo and Kuryakin in, positioned themselves infront the great ornately carved and gilded double doors they'd entered through.

"Well, what have we here? The great Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin, I see. Not so great now are we?" Otto drawled with sarcasm.

"Oh, I don't know, I feel pretty _great_ here at the moment, I'm well fed and rested and in the presence of some beautiful women," Napoleon smiled, then looked toward his partner, "how about you?"

"I always feel _great_ after a nice long nap, I must remember to thank your guards for helping us to sleep."

"You'll be sorry for being so flippant," he snarled, then looked thoughtful for a minute, "let me show you something."

Vanderfeld signalled to someone through an open door to his right.

"Bring her to me, now," he barked, then looked back towards the two agents, "I'll introduce you to my new pet, you see I need to continue her training, she needs to know her place."

"I didn't take you for the sort who liked pets," Solo stated.

"Ahh, but she's no ordinary pet," Otto said with glee.

A low throaty growl, followed by some harshly spoken commands and the sound of a whip being cracked, emanated from the room before it went silent.

"I'll show you how I deal with animals who do not respect me; I have been training this subject for the last two weeks. Very stubborn this one, she's been difficult to crack," he smirked, evidently pleased with himself, "but I do like a good challenge, and she will be very special to me, once her training is complete."

Solo turned his attention away from the door to look across to Illya, eyebrow raised in query; the Russian shrugged, he had no idea what was in that room either.

The American saw his partner stiffen slightly at whatever had entered. Illya's eyes turned to steel, his jaw muscles clenched and his breathing quickened; signals so slight that only Napoleon noticed them and knew immediately that something was very wrong. He turned to see whatever had come through and struggled to keep his own expression neutral at what he saw.


	2. Chapter 2

A woman walked through the doorway, dressed in leather trousers and waistcoat, looking for all the world like an animal trainer. She held a leather whip in one hand, and a lead in her other, which was attached to a spiked collar. It's what was wearing the collar that affected Illya and Napoleon so deeply.

Clad in a leopard print tight fitting outfit, complete with tail, was Rebecca, Illya's lady love. Her long hair was down around her shoulders, looking like a mane. She was growling lowly, eyes watching the whip warily.

"Lay down by your master," the trainer commanded, pointing to the floor with the crop.

She snarled and refused to do as told. The leather clad woman looked to Otto Vanderfeld and he nodded.

"Still needs training I'm afraid. Do it."

The whip was cracked over her body several times, which made her growl all the more.

"My God, what has he done to her?" Napoleon whispered to Illya.

"I do not know, but I will kill him for it," the Russian seethed.

"I'd like to know how she's here, she should have been the other side of the country."

"As do I; what I do know, is we need to get us and her out of here."

Rebecca was whipped until she lay on the floor like an animal, curled up by the feet of her master. Though his face remained neutral, Solo could see the anger rising in his partner.

"You can see what I mean, she's a feisty one isn't she? But she'll learn, they always do," Vanderfeld remarked, pleased with the show he was giving.

"Who is she, and what have you done to her?" Napoleon asked.

"You don't know her? She's one of yours, I do believe," Vanderfeld leered, "and as for what I've done to her, I'll be only too glad to tell you, since you won't be alive for much longer."

Solo and kuryakin looked to each other, this man truly was insane.

"I've perfected a treatment to reduce my subjects to their animal state, hence the trainer, eventually she'll be perfectly behaved. My dear cousin found her and another snooping around his property. He disposed of her partner, but thought I'd like this one as my new pet; my last one died you see… unnatural causes, of course."

"Of course." Illya responded dryly, furiously trying to figure out a way of rescuing his Becca and escaping, while hoping that Napoleon would come up with something quicker than he could.

Just then Otto clicked his fingers and the two scantily dressed maidens either side of him approached nearer, he whispered in the ear of one and she nodded shyly before they both hurriedly left the room to prepare his evening meal and his bed.

This evened up the odds; apart from the trainer and Vanderfeld himself, there were the three guards, Napoleon wondered if there was enough of Rebecca left to help in the fight, he would have to take the chance that something would register in the wild woman.


	3. Chapter 3

Napoleon glanced towards Illya. Reading the Americans intentions, the Russian nodded back; relieved his partner had obviously come up with some kind of plan.

"If you don't mind, this floor is a bit hard on the knees...," Solo started.

"Unfortunately, my partner is not as young as he used to be." Illya said dryly, earning a glare from the American, but the banter helped to disguise their true intent.

They both moved to stand up, immediately drawing the two guards stationed by the doors over to them.

"You're not so far behind me you know..."

Napoleon continued the small talk, waiting for them to relax, lulling them into a false sense of security, before he turned impossibly fast, catching the nearest goon off guard by the sudden movement and throwing a powerful right hook. Solo's fist connected with the guard under the chin, snapping his head back and he collapsed unconscious to the floor.

At the same time, the Russian went low and punched the other hard in the stomach, doubling him over, then finished him with a chop to the back of the neck, rendering him out of the fight too. The remaining guard made his way over to join in the fray.

The disturbance briefly attracted Rebecca's attention, but she wasn't interested in these strangers for the moment, instead, the human leopard took the opportunity to attack her hated trainer and, snarling menacingly, approached her while she was distracted by the fist fight.

Becca went for the woman's head, scratching and clawing her face with her sharpened nails and biting her arms, as the THRUSH raised them in an attempt to protect herself. Eventually the trainer fell to the floor, her face a bloody mess and a large wound to her neck. Rebecca wiped the blood from her face and turned towards Vanderfeld.

Illya and Napoleon had easily dispatched the third guard and stood momentarily transfixed as they saw the tail end of Becca's attack on her trainer.

"He really has turned her into an animal, Illya."

"I know, what worries me, is if we can get her back again." He was horrified at what he saw, but the scientist in him was curious about what she could do.

Rebecca approached Otto as he sat transfixed in his throne, unable to gather the courage to move, lest he suffer the same fate as his trainer.

"You will not harm me, you will listen to my command," he ordered her, his voice quivering.

Becca prowled close to him, snarling and growling, but finding herself struggling to attack him. Suddenly, she caught movement out the corner of her eye and spun round, ready to attack the two strangers in the room.

"Attack my enemies, you she-wolf, they mean to harm me. You. Will. Kill. Them," he screamed, as she bared her teeth and snarled at this possible new threat.


	4. Chapter 4

Illya stood opposite Rebecca, holding his ground as he stared into her eyes. She was snarling at him, poised to attack, as they circled each other.

Her eyes were feral, no recognition in them at all, but so far, she hadn't made a move to actually attack him, he hoped this was a good sign.

"Rebecca, can you hear me? Do you know who I am? It is me, Illya."

She stopped snarling and cocked her head to the side, as if thinking, her eyes still those of a wild animal.

"Eeeeelyaaah," she growled as she continued stalking him.

"Yes, Rebecca. Illya," hope in his heart that some part of her _was_ still there.

"Reeee…. Reeeebecaaaarrrr," she tilted her head the other way as she tried to say her name, still keeping her eyes fixed on the Russian.

While Kuryakin was occupied with the human leopard, Solo approached Vanderfeld. Napoleon's anger over what had been done to Becca evident in his body language, and with the gun pointed unwaveringly at his adversaries chest.

"I don't know how or what you've done to her, but it better be reversible."

"So you do know her then? Oh, this is going to be interesting," he raised his voice higher as he watched the current standoff, "she-wolf, you will obey me, kill them."

Rebecca growled in response but didn't make any further move towards Illya.

"She doesn't seem to be listening to you does she? Maybe you don't have the control over her that you think you do," Solo remarked.

"I think you may need to reconsider that comment, I do believe her training is starting to take over again," Vanderfeld replied with a grin as they both looked towards the sudden noise.

There was a loud snarl as Rebecca launched herself towards Kuryakin, biting his arm severely as he raised it to protect his face.

"_Chert, ona ukusila menya_ (Hell, she bit me)," Illya gasped.

Rebecca stopped her second attack when she heard him swear in Russian, head again cocked to one side as if something was stirring in her mind.

"_Rebecca , moya lyubovʹ, pozhaluysta, poslushayte menya, my ne khotim prichinitʹ tebe bolʹ._ (Rebecca, my love, please listen to me, we do not want to hurt you.)"

"She-wolf, ignore him, follow my command and continue your attack," Otto Vanderfeld screamed.

"I've had enough of hearing your voice, goodnight Vanderfeld." Solo darted him easily, he was surprised the THRUSH didn't even put up a fight, so confident was he that Becca would obey him eventually.

Napoleon slowly approached Illya and Rebecca, ready to help his partner if he needed it. Kuryakin was still talking to her in his native toungue, it seemed to be triggering something in her; then without warning, she leapt for him again. Solo wasted no time and darted her, hoping that the sleeping drug wouldn't react badly with whatever had been given to her.

Illya knelt down beside the unconscious form lying crumpled on the floor. He looked up to his partner, "You did not need to do that, Napoleon, I was doing fine, something was happening."

"I'm sorry, but yes I did, my friend. She's bitten you once, and you've already seen what she's capable of, she was about to attack you again," Solo replied sadly as he placed a hand on Kuryakin's shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

"I was ready for her," the Russian looked down at Becca, stroking some hair away from her face, "I think she was beginning to recognise me."

"Maybe, but she was still about to hurt you again. We need to get out of here, I'll contact our Georgia office in Atlanta and arrange for a clean-up crew." Napoleon made his way to a telephone sat on a desk in the corner of the room and started to dial.

Illya gently examined Rebecca, checking her over for any clue as to what had been done to her. He could see through the tears of her outfit there were plenty of marks on her back from the whip, some healing, some new and weeping; more scars to add to the ones she already had.

"Clean-up are on their way," Napoleon confirmed as he rejoined his partner.

"I am surprised the other two women have not made an appearance," Illya commented, "or anyone else for that matter."

"Tovarisch, with all the noise, and added to that, Becca, maybe they didn't want to risk coming back in here. I'll go and see if they're still around and who else may be with them."

He came back several minutes later, quicker than the Russian had expected.

"They were hiding in the other room, they've been held here against their will too. Apart from our sleeping THRUSHies here, the only others around are the women in his harem. It seems Vanderfeld thought so much of his, err, treatment programme, he believed he only had need of those three guards. Anyway, they're going to wait for our Georgia personnel to come and help them with clearing this place."

Kuryakin rolled his eyes, "overconfidence, they will never learn, but it makes our job a bit easier."

Illya had rolled up Rebecca's sleeves and was checking her arms, finding the tell-tale signs from a hypodermic needle. "I think she has been drugged, her arms are covered in puncture marks."

"Mmm, the two beauties in there seem to think she was 'medicated' at least three times a day. Maybe that means whatever she's been given might wear off eventually and with a bit of luck, sooner rather than later."

"Let us hope," Illya replied, not wanting to think of the alternative.

"How are we going to get Becca back to HQ? I wouldn't like to take her on a plane, not in her present condition, same with the train."

"No, I agree, not a good idea. It looks like it is going to be a long drive back to New York then." Illya sighed, not looking forward a long uncomfortable trip in a car all the way from Southern Georgia.


	5. Chapter 5

Several hours later they were on their way back to New York, after having commandeered a car from the Georgia clean up crew for the lengthy journey. Napoleon glanced in the mirror watching his friend as he dozed.

Immediately Illya was alert as Rebecca stirred. She struggled against him, growling and snarling as he held her. He spoke quietly to her in Russian. It seemed to quieten her and she cocked her head as she listened.

"Eeeelyaaah?"

"_Da, Illya, ty pomnishʹ menya? ty pomnishʹ, chto s toboy sluchilosʹ?(_Yes, Illya, do you remember me? Do you know what happened to you?)"

"Eeelyaah. Reeebecaarrrr." She closed her eyes, when she reopened them, they looked a little more human.

"_Vy nakhoditesʹ v bezopasnosti , vy s druzʹyami_. (You are safe now, you are with friends)"

She growled quietly as if sighing, shifted slightly and slept again.

"How is she tovarisch? She does seem to respond to you when you speak Russian."

"It is like wrestling with an overgrown feline. I know I like cats, but this is taking it a bit far. I think she responds because it is recognised subconsciously. As you know, we often communicate in my native tongue."

"Mmm, among other ways, or so I've heard."

Illya didn't give Napoleon the satisfaction of a response and just rolled his eyes.

The next time Becca woke, they were half way through their journey and Illya had taken over the driving. Napoleon tried to speak to her in his limited Russian, but it didn't have quite the same effect on her as when Illya spoke. She struggled and fought with him, though not as violently as back in Vanderfeld's throne room.

"I am going to stop, and then you can take over the driving while I talk to her."

"Okay, tovarisch, good idea."

They swapped places, and she began to calm down as Kuryakin spoke to her. He looked into her eyes and noticed they seemed to be a little clearer, he hoped that the drug she had been given, was indeed, wearing off.

"Eelyaah, Reebecaar, uh… unngrrreee."

"Now, that's a statement I recognise," Napoleon laughed, "sounds like she's working her way back to us."

"Da, whatever they kept her on is hopefully leaving her system."

"Well, I'll stop at the next place I see that does take out. I don't exactly think we can take our 'Wild Woman from Borneo' into a restaurant."

"I agree, she is not in the best frame of mind for dining out."

Illya pulled Rebecca closer and continued speaking quietly to her as she allowed the embrace.

It didn't take long to find somewhere that did takeaway meals, Napoleon came back to the car carrying two bags.

"Somebody order dinner?"

"Mmmm, I am starving, and Chinese too; good choice, Napoleon."

The smell of fried rice, sweet and sour chicken and foo yung, emanating from the containers, was mouth-watering.

They shared the food between them, Becca using her hands to eat with, until Illya patiently showed her how to use the knife and fork provided, wisely deciding to leave the chopsticks in the bag.

Once they finished, they tidied up and disposed of the rubbish before continuing their journey. Feeling satiated, it wasn't long before Rebecca was asleep again, Illya joining her soon after. Solo smiled at the sight of the both of them stretched out on the back seat, Becca safely enfolded within Illya's arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Towards the end of their twelve hour journey, Rebecca was behaving more like herself; her speech was returning to normal and she now recognised both Illya and Napoleon.

Becca had fallen asleep with her head pillowed on Kuryakin's lap, his hand gently stroking her hair, which she'd found calming.

She stirred and, on opening her eyes, saw a pair of blue ones looking at her lovingly.

"How are you feeling?" Illya asked.

"A bit on the strange side, like I've had too much to drink, my head is fuzzy," she frowned as she caught sight of the bite mark, "what happened to your arm?"

"Um, I was bitten."

"By what? It looks nasty."

"I don't think you'd believe him if he told you." Napoleon spoke up.

"Do not worry, it is not as bad as it looks."

"Illya?" Rebecca whispered as she snuggled closer to him.

"Mmm?"

"Why am I in this outfit? Not that there is much of it," she asked, as she picked at the skimpy fabric, "it's not exactly me."

"You don't remember what happened to you?" Solo asked.

"No, and why do I get the feeling it's going to be a long story?"

"Not too long, we do not know everything thing that happened to you either," Illya said.

The two agents told Rebecca all they knew and had just finished relaying their story as they pulled into the New York HQ car park.

Becca was quiet as she digested the information they had given her, not quite believing what she'd been made to do and even more disturbed that she had no recollection of any of it; just suddenly becoming aware of her surroundings and confused as to why she was travelling with Napoleon and Illya, when she should have been on an assignment somewhere else.

"I really did that?" Becca took Illya's arm and looked at the angry looking wound.

"Da, you really did." He smiled, trying to help alleviate her discomfort, and taking her chin he lifted her face so she was looking into his eyes, "but I know you could not help it and I do not hold it against you, _moya lyubov_."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry Illyusha, I really wasn't myself, was I?"

"No, you were not. We need to make sure that whatever they used is working its way out of your system." Illya said as they helped her out the car, their muscles stiff from the long journey.

"Come on, we need to get you checked out in Medical," Solo ordered.

"I feel okay now, can't you just take me home?" Becca pleaded, "I just want to sleep."

"No, we don't know what they've used on you, you need to be checked over," Solo said, "and your arm needs to be seen to as well, Illya."

"I am fine. I can dress it at home; I do not need to be poked and prodded here."

"No, you will both do as you are told, or do I have to contact The Old Man? You know how he doesn't like to be disturbed for issues like this." Napoleon demanded; feeling guilty, as he knew he'd do everything he could to avoid medical if it had been him that had been injured.

"You would be the one in his bad books, not us, you are the CEA after all," Illya pointed out.

"Yes, true, but do you really want your next assignment to be in Siberia?"

"He has a point, I suppose, Illya," Rebecca replied with a sigh.

"Mmm, maybe Medical is the lesser evil. You drive a hard bargain, Napoleon," the Russian answered sulkily.

"I know," the American grinned, "and the sooner we can establish if the drugs are clearing out of your system Becca, the better."

"Well, at least that explains this outfit, and why it has a tail."

"Mmm, and a very nice tail it is," Illya murmured quietly in her ear, a sly grin on his face.

"What's going through that mind of yours, Kuryakin?" Rebecca whispered back.

"I think, maybe, we could have an outfit like that for our own pleasure?"

Suddenly she choked and spluttered and had to lean against the grey steel wall as Illya patted her back, helping her to catch her breath; Napoleon turned and glanced inquiringly, concern etched on his face.

"You okay?"

"Yes, fine thank you, Napoleon, I just swallowed and it went down the wrong way." She managed to choke out, then turned back to Illya, "Did I hear you right?" She asked quietly.

"Mmm, I think maybe you did," he replied with a mischievous smirk as he steadied her before continuing on their way towards Medical.


	7. Chapter 7

Rebecca felt self conscious as they walked down the grey corridors, luckily they hadn't met many others so far, but she knew as they drew nearer to the more well used parts of HQ, they would come across more people, the last thing she wanted was to draw the unwanted attention she would be bound to get with what she was wearing.

"I want to stop by my office before we go to Medical. I'd like to change into something a little more comfortable," Rebecca stated.

"Okay, I think that's probably a good idea," Napoleon agreed.

Luckily her office was away from the busier corridors and they only passed two more members of staff before reaching her room. Feeling better now she was dressed in a skirt and blouse, and with the outfit safely hidden away, they continued the short trip to Medical.

When they arrived they were ushered into an examination room where Illya and Napoleon explained as much as they could to the doctor on duty. While the medic examined Becca, Napoleon accompanied Illya to the treatment room to have his arm seen to.

"Well, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Lizzie asked as she cleaned the wound.

"My darling, you wouldn't believe us if we told you," Napoleon replied.

"Knowing you two, as I do, I think I'd believe just about anything," She answered with a smile.

"Maybe one day we will tell you the full story," Illya said.

"I'll look forward to it. There, you're done." She told the Russian. Turning to Napoleon, Lizzie added, "I've finished my shift now so I'll see you at home."

"Okay, _ma cherie_, I don't think I'll be long." Solo gave her a kiss and, as she turned to go, playfully smacked her on the butt.

"Save it for home, Napoleon," Illya sighed.

"Then where's the fun in that, tovarisch?" He smirked.

The Russian just rolled his eyes and groaned as he walked from the room.

Solo left Medical to make his report to Waverly, who even now was still in his office; while Illya went to see how Rebecca was fairing.

The doctor had finished examining her and was tending the wounds left by the whip.

"How is she, doctor?" Illya asked as he took Becca's hand in his.

"I think she'll be fine, her vitals all seem to be within acceptable limits. I'll send some blood samples to the lab to see if we can identify the substance and make sure the drug is leaving her body."

Her injuries dressed, Illya helped Rebecca sit back up, then perched on the bed next to her as the doctor drew some of her blood.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I just want to go me home, please, Illyusha."

"We need to wait for the results of your bloodwork first, before I will even consider releasing you, Miss Andrews," the doctor said.

"But it's going to be hours before they come back," Rebecca complained.

"Shh, at least we have a bed and we can sleep while we wait. I know I am tired and I suspect you are too _zavetnyy_." Illya soothed, pulling her down with him as he lie back on the pillows, knowing the doctor was right, but not really liking it. Within minutes they were both asleep.

"Illya, Becca, wake up." Napoleon called as he and the doctor approached them several hours later.

"Mmmm?" Illya mumbled as he came to.

"Miss Andrews blood results are back," the doctor informed them.

"Can I go home now then?" Becca sleepily asked.

"No, sorry. We're not happy with the amount of the drug still in your system," the doctor told her.

"I feel fine, Illya will be with me so I'll be okay. Please, let me go home."

"No, we have not come across this drug before and I want to keep you in overnight for monitoring," the doctor insisted.

"If you let me go home, I promise I'll come straight back if something happens."

"Absolutely not, and if you don't cooperate, I'll tie you to the bed myself," the medic threatened.

"I do not think you will win this time, _zavetnyy_. I will stay here with you."

Rebecca reluctantly stayed the night, sharing the bed with Illya; the medical staff letting it pass, knowing their job would be easier by allowing the young couple to stay together.

The next evening the doctor was relieved to be able to release her, the afternoons drug testing showed her system was clear and they were happy that there were no ill effects after monitoring her for the rest of the day.

A few days later, Illya was looking through the closet for something comfortable to wear on their day off when he came across a familiar looking outfit, he pulled it out with a silly smirk on his face.

"Becca, what is this?"

She came into the bedroom and blushed as she saw what he was holding up.

"Erm, you did say that you'd like one for our own pleasure and I made sure it had a tail, I can show you what I can do with it if you wish."

"_Da, ya ochenʹ khochu_, (Yes, I wish very much)." He replied as he swept Becca up into his arms, suddenly feeling very amorous and knowing exactly how to deal with it.


End file.
